Language is a tool, 
not a temple of truth. 

Thought is like language, 
so elusive that its bulwark
crumbles as you dilute 
words in a creative broth.

			In the depth 
of our imaginary skills 
lies an abyss of joy. 

It is waiting 
		for your 
			explosive soul 
to dream 
		its strongest 
by expanding 
			language into 
endless coils 
				of love.

If language 
			is a tool, 
is thought 
			a reason 
or a result?

As I desire, 
			I limit myself 
		to thought.

As I think, 
			I limit myself 
to what is 
			defined as me.

As I speak, 
			I limit myself 
to words. 

As I touch, 
			I limit myself 
to perception. 

As I perceive, 
			I limit myself 
to what is 
			outside of me.

As I imagine,
			I limit myself 
to my ability 
			to create.

			In thought 
and perception, 
			lies objectivity, 
so where does 
			creativity 
						sleep?

In my bedroom, 
			you might say,
so where 
		do you sleep?

In my bed,
			you might say,
so where 
		is your sleep?

In my mind,
		you might say,
so where 
		are you?

In my sleep,
			you might say,
so who 
		is sleeping?

Me, 
	you might say,
so who
		are you?

If you 
		can't answer, 
					but with only
		another "me", 
ask: 

Why can't an eye confess what it sees 
unless it observes its naked state
					as it sleeps?  

Are you awake 
			or unknowingly dreaming? 

			Keep it 
			your way.

			Sit in 
			objectivity.

			Build 
			your facts.

			Stand over 
			subjectivity.

		  Transcend both.

			Dream on. 
	Better yet,
			dream up... 

Has the bulwark 
				gone home?

			Where is home?

It is where the temple of truth dwells,
within, reaching out... toward being
                                    authentic.
Signature Lina Ru